


Tying the Knot Wrong

by Dracoduceus



Series: Words With Benefits [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Jesse McCree, Awkward courtships, Dragon Naga Hanzo Shimada, M/M, Miscommunication, Rattlesnake Naga Jesse McCree, meet the parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-01-16 04:17:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21264947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/pseuds/Dracoduceus
Summary: A continuation ofOn the Altar.---Hanzo learns that McCree has a human "family" when they come into their shared territory to visit McCree. After watching them interact, Hanzo is intrigued by the humans interacting and by McCree's behavior around them. When they leave, he demands that McCree show him human courtship behaviors.  Perhaps courting the rattlesnake naga by the ways of Hanzo's people wasn't the way to go--perhaps courting McCree the way that humans courted would get better results.





	Tying the Knot Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Title, of course, from the wonderful [IchigoWhiskey](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey).
> 
> Story is a continuation of [On the Altar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19387765), voted as a reward for October.

One of the acolytes entered the room and bowed. By then, Hanzo’s most loyal followers had gotten used to their…inordinate affection. Now they hardly batted an eye, though Hanzo had seen them occasionally grimace—especially when faced with the thought of cleaning up after them.

Not that they had to do so very often. His pretty consort was strange that way—he didn’t like asking them to clean up after them, hardly treated them like servants. McCree made  _ friends _ with them instead of keeping an aloof distance.

Hanzo was mystified. To change his own behavior toward them so drastically would be to admit that he had been wrong before, but at McCree’s insistence—often made publicly before the acolytes in groups of one or two, never more—Hanzo learned their names at least. He was fond of them to be sure, and very fond of his pretty consort and his silly habit of rattling his tail when he was pleased.

Still. Hanzo began to show his acolytes more favor and felt inexplicably warm when they returned his affections with zeal and devotion.

He glanced over at the acolyte, coiling his tail around McCree’s to still him. It was hard to tell which acolyte this was given the loose robes and shapeless hood that they insisted on wearing but by the intricate designs painted on their false claws, Hanzo thought that it was the one that called themselves Prue.

“We apologize for interrupting, lords,” Prue said in their distinct voice. They had a strange accent that Hanzo couldn’t place and while it was occasionally difficult to understand them, he enjoyed the sounds of their native tongue in the common one they shared. “But there are guests here that insist that they know the Lord Consort.”

That got McCree’s attention and he wiggled so urgently in Hanzo’s hold that he released him in surprise. “Visitors?” he asked, sounding alarmed. McCree seemed frustratingly indifferent to Hanzo’s annoyed hiss when his cock slipped out with a wet sound. “Did they give their names?”

“Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison, Lord Consort,” Prue said very carefully, clearly having difficulty pronouncing the names in their heavy accent.

The names seemed familiar to McCree who began swearing in his own tongue, darting around their living area. “What day is it? What is the date?” he asked, unusually short.

Prue seemed to shrink in on themselves. “The thirtieth of October, Lord Consort.”

Swearing, McCree found one of the strange blankets that was among the few possessions he had brought with him when he came to live with Hanzo. McCree shook one out and wrapped it around his waist; a second went around his shoulders and he slithered quickly toward the door.

“Thank you, Prue,” he said as he passed the acolyte.

Very cautiously, Prue looked up at Hanzo. “We are—”

“It’s not your fault, Prue,” Hanzo growled. From the way that Prue shrank back from him, it was unconvincing. “See to it that his guests are settled,” Hanzo ordered, short with them in his frustration. “If they would like to stay the night, find them a room or rooms as they like and see that they are cared for,” he continued. Then he sighed and forced himself to calm down, though the tip of his tail continued to whip angrily. “Thank you for delivering the message, Prue. I apologize for my…frustration.”

Prue’s cheeks turned pink in the way that humans showed that they were embarrassed. They bobbed their head. “I’ll see that it’s done, Great One.” They scurried off and when the doors closed behind them, Hanzo allowed himself a single snarl in frustration.

He paced their quarters to let his blood cool and his frustration ebb. Hanzo had no issues admitting that he had grown spoiled with McCree and with his acolytes— _ their _ acolytes, for they loved McCree as much as they loved and feared Hanzo. He was used to being alone and getting his way all the time.

Being denied like this was a relatively new and wholly unpleasant experience.

Hanzo hissed to himself, pacing around the perimeter of their room a few more times before deciding that he had composed himself enough to move after his consort.

An acolyte—Jocelyn? He thought that was her name—waited in the hallway and bowed deeply when she saw him. She was slightly out of breath, so she likely had just come running to meet him before he went too far. “As you ordered, we moved the Lord Consort and his guests to the garden room.”

Hanzo’s brows rose in an expression of human surprise that he had picked up from McCree. The garden room rarely entertained guests, though it was one of Hanzo’s favorite rooms in the opulent palace that their acolytes built for them.

“Thank you,” he told her stiffly, wary of using a name that wasn’t hers.

She hesitated. “My lord…” she began and trailed off. “Are you…do you wish to wear clothes to visit the Lord Consort’s parents?”

Parents? Ah yes, McCree  _ had _ mentioned that he had been adopted by humans. That was why he spoke the human tongue; they were conservationists, which was why he kept his fangs as well.

“Why?” he asked brusquely as she walked quickly beside him.

Maybe-Jocelyn didn’t seem to have an answer for that. “Ah, well, it’s just that humans are…prudish.”

Hanzo huffed but to her credit, she didn’t scurry away from him as some of the other acolytes still did. “Humans are as humans do,” he told her. “And  _ I _ am not human.”

He opened the doors to the garden room and found, to his satisfaction, that other acolytes had brought food and refreshments for their guests. There were two strange men critically inspecting one of the plants. McCree was coiled beside them, speaking with one of them.

They all looked up when Hanzo entered. Immediately both humans—a pale one and one with a darker complexion than McCree—turned red the way that humans did when they were embarrassed and looked away; McCree rushed to Hanzo’s side, wrapping the strange cape he had draped over his shoulders around Hanzo’s waist.

“ _ You don’t do that, _ ” McCree said haltingly in Hanzo’s language.

Hanzo hissed in annoyance and slapped McCree’s hands away. “ _ Why not? _ ” he demanded. “ _ What have I done? _ ”

His pretty consort grunted. “You’re a mess,” he said very quietly in the human tongue. “Come on, cover up.”

“Cover up  _ what _ ?” Hanzo asked impatiently.

McCree gestured to Hanzo’s hips with a helpless look. “Humans do not go around naked like we do,” McCree whispered. “Especially…” here he looked strangely embarrassed. Leaning close, he said in Hanzo’s language, “ _ after we had our fun _ .”

Looking down, Hanzo eyed the sloppy gape of his hole, the lines of slick that were making his scales there shine. Then he sighed. “You did not care before,” he pointed out, very much aware that he sounded like a spoiled hatchling.

McCree ran an apologetic hand along Hanzo’s side. “Yes,” he said with more patience than Hanzo probably deserved. “But my parents weren’t here before.” Then he looked worried. “I know—”

He stopped when Hanzo held up a hand. “They mean this much to you?” wordlessly, McCree nodded even though he wasn’t expecting an answer. “Then forgive me for not arriving appropriately attired.”

“I  _ had _ run out pretty quick, huh?” McCree asked a little sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I—”

Hanzo put his fingers over McCree’s lips to stop him. “If I had known how much this meant to you, I would not have arrived as I have. Give me a moment and I will return.”

“Ain’t gotta do nothing fancy,” McCree told him quickly, leaning lower on his tail to bring himself to Hanzo’s height. Though Hanzo was much longer in the tail, he preferred to be closer to the ground than McCree did, giving the illusion of a height difference between them.

Leaning in, Hanzo kissed McCree gently in the way that humans did—and in the way that McCree had taught Hanzo to enjoy. “Never second best,” he reminded McCree. “I shall return shortly.”

No sooner had he turned the corner did he find Prue and a handful of other acolytes running down the hall on their silly human legs, their arms full of some of Hanzo’s regalia. He was pleased to see that Prue themselves was carrying his favorite jeweled collar, which would hang over his shoulders and would trail delicate silver chains tipped with shimmering drops in blue and white opal. Another acolyte, one that was new enough that he didn’t know his name, held one of Hanzo’s robes bundled carefully in his arms.

There were more that had soft cloths to buff the sand and dust from his scales and another with a brush for his long hair.

With a sigh, Hanzo allowed them to clamber over him, brushing out the short mane along his back and the golden tuft at the tip of his long tail. He accepted a cloth from the acolyte to wipe down his front before the others helped him into his thin linen robe and beaded collar and chest piece.

It was commissioned after he had met another  _ naga _ in the land that the humans called Egypt. She was a tiny thing but fierce enough that he was nearly cowed by her despite his pride. Even missing an eye he knew that he would be at a disadvantage with her.

But Ana’s finery had fascinated Hanzo and his acolytes so they stayed for a while before moving on. Given the harsh heat that Hanzo enjoyed, the acolytes learned how to better deal with it and the sand from Ana’s devoted servant.

Ana had occasionally dressed up as Hanzo did now, but his dear acolytes had put their own spin on clothing similar to hers—though he felt that the design his acolytes created for him was finer than the plain golden collar that Ana wore. 

When the acolytes had finished buffing his scales and getting him ready, Hanzo returned to the garden room. McCree immediately went to greet him, sinking lower on his tail to bring himself to Hanzo’s height for a kiss. 

“You clean up nice,” he murmured. “ _ You look beautiful _ .” Hanzo smiled, preening beneath the attention. “Come on, let me introduce you to my folks.” 

The blonde human was Jack Morrison and the dark-complexioned one was Gabriel Reyes. Hanzo learned that they had met while in the human military and after they retired, they opened up a conservation for local wildlife—which was how they met McCree.

Hanzo watched them tangle their fingers together in a strange gesture that he’d never seen before. “I’m glad to see  _ jessito _ happy,” Gabriel Reyes said gruffly. 

“Pa!” McCree complained. “You don’t need to call me ‘little Jesse’ anymore! I’m an adult!” 

The human called Jack Morrison smiled and reached over to pat McCree’s cheek. “You’ll still be a baby to us,  _ mijo _ .” 

Hanzo watched all of this in interest. He’d lived among humans for many years now, but his acolytes never acted like this—but then again, before McCree, Hanzo had never taken any interest in human behavior. 

The other human, Gabriel Reyes, watched him intently, as if measuring him up. In another  _ naga _ , Hanzo would think that he was being challenged, but he didn’t know what it might mean in humans. Was it the same? 

So he stared challengingly back at the human just in case, keeping his eyes warily on him but not making a move—he meant much to McCree so Hanzo would not make such moves against him though it itched beneath his skin to sit there and do nothing. 

“Ease up on your stare,” Jack Morrison told the human Gabriel Reyes. “It’s rude. We’re guests here, remember.” 

This seemed to distress McCree, for he came quickly to Hanzo’s side, throwing the tip of his tail over Hanzo’s. “ _ Are you okay? _ ” he asked quietly in Hanzo’s language. 

“All is well,” Hanzo told McCree without turning away from Gabriel Reyes. 

Jack Morrison cleared his throat. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he told Hanzo. “And thank you for your...care for Jesse.” 

Nervously, McCree’s tail patted at Hanzo’s, not quite rattling. 

“It makes me wonder,” Gabriel Reyes said pointedly. “Your people aren’t the most charitable. So why are you keeping him around?”

Hanzo’s tail tensed. “What do you mean by that?” he asked in a rough voice, baring his teeth.

Nervously, McCree’s tail rattled. He looked back and forth between Hanzo and one of his fathers. “That’s none of your concern, Pa,” he said dangerously. “I’m an adult.” 

Gabriel Reyes said something in the language that Hanzo remembered hearing McCree speak in and the two began to argue in earnest. The human turned away from Hanzo, who couldn’t even appreciate his temporary victory. 

The other human came forward and stopped a polite distance away, offering him a slight bow of deference as he ignored the arguing pair. “I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “We raised Jesse ourselves. He was an orphan and not doing so well. You could say that we grew quite attached to him...and when we learned that a new  _ naga _ had moved into his territory, we feared the worst.” 

Hanzo glanced at McCree and the other human. McCree had coiled his tail around Gabriel Reyes and his fangs were bared, his tail rattling. But Gabriel Reyes didn’t seem afraid as he argued back. 

“I know it must not look like it,” Jack Morrison laughed quietly. “But Gabe was really worried. And he’s just relieved to see that he’s alive. We’re just...not sure what to make of this.” 

“I understand,” Hanzo said though he didn’t completely.

Jack Morrison smiled at him as if seeing through his lie but was kind enough to not say anything about it. “May I ask what kind of  _ naga _ you are?” the human asked politely. “I have not seen scales like yours, or a crest like the one you have.” 

He tried not to preen, ridiculously glad that Prue had thought to summon more of the acolytes to groom him in the hallway. Not that he wasn’t always impeccably groomed, but his previous... _ activities _ with McCree had left him with a fine layer of dust and dirt on his scales. Not to mention the apparent faux pas of arriving as he had. 

“I am not from this region,” Hanzo replied. “According to some, I am not a true  _ naga _ due to my crest.” 

Jack Morrison nodded, looking appreciatively over Hanzo’s tail and once more he resisted the urge to preen. “Your features remind me of Asian dragons but the collar you’re wearing reminds me more of Egypt.” 

“In my travels, I traveled to Egypt,” Hanzo agreed with a slight bow of his head. “I met a cobra  _ naga _ there. The style of clothing she wore...inspired me.” 

The human smiled, his eyes crinkling. He was friendly and seemed respectful without the fawning nature that his acolytes had. They both looked back at Gabriel Reyes and McCree. “Is this...common between them?” Hanzo asked hesitantly. 

“Oh, they argue all the time,” Jack Morrison assured him. “The louder the yelling, the more likely Gabe was concerned. Jess used to get into so much trouble when he was just a little snakelet.” 

Hanzo coiled his tail and relaxed. “Would you tell me about him as a youngling?” 

The man laughed. “I think the significant others in all species are the same,” he teased. “Looking for stories to embarrass their partners with later.” 

“I did not ask for that reason,” Hanzo told him, feeling inexplicably annoyed at the suggestion. 

For a long moment, Jack Morrison regarded him with an expression that Hanzo couldn’t read. “I’m sorry,” he said at last, sounding contrite though still wary. “I can’t help but worry, too. We spoiled him too much when he was growing up. He was raised as a human so I worry about him in the wild.” 

Even though he knew this, Hanzo had a sudden realization just  _ exactly _ what that meant. 

“When we realized that there was another _ naga _ , we feared the worst,” Jack Morrison continued gently. “But there aren’t many  _ naga _ in this area to begin with. We were a bit curious as well, which is why we finally sought you out, even if we were preparing for the idea that you killed our son.”

Hanzo’s tail curled. “I’m...sorry...to have worried you.” 

The human’s severe expression lifted as he smiled. “And I’m sorry to have interrogated you,” he said. “It’s just…” 

“I cannot pretend to understand human customs,” Hanzo managed to grit out, frustrated at having to admit his own shortcomings so many times in such a short amount of time. 

Suddenly, Jack Morrison’s expression changed and he brought a hand up to his mouth. “I see,” he said. “Forgive me for being so bold, lord of this estate, but I must ask: how has your courtship of my boy gone?” 

It was a struggle to keep his face neutral, but the human seemed to understand.  Hanzo’s tail tightened. “I do not understand your meaning,” he said stiffly.

The human turned his head away, clearly unafraid of Hanzo, to look at McCree and Gabriel Reyes. The latter was sitting— _ sitting! _ —in McCree’s coils. Their argument seemed to be over but they were talking with each other; it sounded like Gabriel Reyes was still scolding McCree.

“He’s an idiot, but he’s ours,” Jack Morrison said dryly, a kindly, knowing look in his eyes. “And the idiot thinks he’s human—at least, in terms of culture and things that are not instinctive knowledge for him. Go easy with him.”

Hanzo’s tail coiled tighter, as if he were a constrictor. He had no idea how to respond to that—to do so would be to admit that he had failed in courting McCree.

“May I pour you tea?” Jack Morrison asked, mercifully stepping away from Hanzo and toward the table setting.

That seemed to catch McCree’s attention and despite Gabriel Reyes still sitting on his tail, he moved quickly over. “Let me get that,” he said, taking the teapot from Jack Morrison’s hands. McCree smiled up at Hanzo. “Would you like some too?”

“Yes please,” Hanzo said quietly, watching his pretty consort. McCree coiled his tail into a more stable resting position and began to pour mugs of steaming tea. He served Hanzo first and then his fathers, seemingly back into a good mood; the sound of the tea was punctuated by the quiet rattle of his tail.

Without asking, McCree began cutting and serving the tea cakes and candies as well, using that as an excuse to edge closer to Hanzo. Gabriel Reyes scowled at Hanzo while he ate. “I’ve never heard of a  _ naga _ eating sweets,” the human grumbled.

“ _ Reyes _ ,” Jack Morrison said warningly.

Hanzo ignored them both. “Was this a recipe you requested?” he asked McCree.

His lovely consort’s expression brightened. “I taught them how,” he said proudly. Gabriel Reyes’s expression clouded over but Jack Morrison smiled brilliantly. “Do you like it?”

Uncurling his tail, Hanzo tossed a loop over McCree’s affectionately. McCree glanced back at Hanzo’s blue scales and beamed at Hanzo. In the presence of others, Hanzo couldn’t force himself to say what he wanted to—his pride got in the way—but he hoped that that little gesture would be enough for the moment.

McCree leaned into the gentle touch, his tail rattling louder.

From there, the visit was almost civil. Whatever McCree had said to Gabriel Reyes seemed to have smoothed things over at least a little; the rest of the visit was significantly less awkward than when it had started. It was almost pleasant, even.

“May we come back another time for a visit?” Jack Morrison asked diffidently as they prepared to leave.

McCree opened his mouth to respond before seemingly remembering that it was no longer solely his territory. He looked nervously at Hanzo. “I don’t see why that would be an issue…?”

“You are welcome to visit again, of course,” Hanzo said smoothly. The tip of his tail flopped over McCree’s comfortingly, though after Jack Morrison’s talk, he wondered if McCree would recognize that particular gesture.

Jack Morrison glanced over at their tails and smiled. He winked at Hanzo as if to say  _ remember what I said _ and with their arms linked, McCree’s human parents turned and left.

Lost in thought, Hanzo watched them walk across the courtyard to their vehicle, climb in, and leave after a final wave to McCree.

“Is something wrong?” McCree asked worriedly, coiling his tail nervously. This time when his tail rattled, it wasn’t out of simple, canine joy; it was from a nervousness that Hanzo didn’t understand as he wrung his hands.

If Hanzo needed any more proof that McCree was as much human in his mannerisms as  _ naga _ , this was it. Very carefully, trying to mimic the tender way that he had seen Jack Morrison take the hands of his human mate, Hanzo caught McCree’s nervously-twisting hands.

“I’m sorry,” Hanzo said after a brief glance around to make sure that none of the acolytes were nearby to listen. He drew himself closer and looped the tip of his tail over McCree’s again. “I did not mean to worry you—or…” he trailed off, not quite sure how he should apologize for trying to court McCree in a way that he wouldn’t understand.

“No,  _ I  _ should be sorry,” McCree insisted. “I sprung this all on you and…well…we’re not…” he tried to make some kind of gesture but Hanzo refused to let go of his hands.

Hanzo peered closely at McCree, taking in the little things that he hadn’t noticed before. The way he smiled like a human, his eyes crinkling with the motion, the way he talked with his hands sometimes.

The way that he had never responded to any of Hanzo’s advances.

So many things made sense, now. “I had begun to think,” Hanzo said very slowly, watching McCree’s face. “I had begun to wonder if my…affections had not been returned. That you were rejecting my offers of courtship.”

McCree gave a full-body flinch and Hanzo once more began to doubt himself. Had he been doubly wrong? Or had McCree been oblivious and when it was spelled out for him, found that the idea of being courted by Hanzo was…

“Oh,” McCree said awkwardly and Hanzo prepared himself for the inevitable rejection. “ _ Oh _ .”

Hanzo’s tail curled in on itself nervously. “I see,” he said and began to draw himself back.

He dodged out of the way when McCree moved suddenly, his instincts kicking in to defend himself. Seeing the stricken look on McCree’s face, Hanzo swallowed and tried not to get his hopes up.

“How long have you been trying?” McCree asked softly, reaching for Hanzo’s hands, then lowering himself on his tail to cup Hanzo’s face. “How long haven’t I noticed?”

Hanzo tried to look away but McCree’s grip was firm. “Some moons now,” he said reluctantly.

“Oh,” McCree breathed. “I’m a damn fool. What else have I missed?” he asked, almost to himself. Leaning close—cautious as if afraid that Hanzo would lash out, would attack—he pressed his forehead against Hanzo’s. “I’m so sorry, sweet. I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

Halfheartedly trying to escape McCree’s pity, Hanzo tried to move his tail only to find that McCree had placed his rattle against Hanzo’s side. “I will take this as a rejection,” Hanzo said stiffly. “Release me.”

It was easy to forget McCree’s speed due to his affable nature and Hanzo flinched when he found himself trapped by McCree’s tail. “No!” McCree cried and Hanzo flinched in surprise. “No,” McCree said much softer, running the tips of his fingers along Hanzo’s cheeks reverently. “It’s…that’s not it. I’m just…I feel like  _ shit _ knowing that I missed so much. Of course, I accept your courtship—a thousand times over! I just…I thought…” he swallowed. “You saw…Jack and Gabe. They raised me. Only they didn’t know  _ naga _ traditions either. So…” his eyes were warm as they looked at Hanzo, a very human smile on his lips. “I thought that  _ you _ …” he shook his head.

Suddenly Hanzo had a realization—and now understood why McCree was so amused, what he was trying to say with his awkward fragments of sentences. “You were trying to court _ me _ .”

Dinners—cooked,  _ human _ ones and not the raw bodies of animals that Hanzo had brought for McCree.

Flowers, the very ones peppering the halls of their palace, and other desert plants that adorned the garden room. McCree had been zealous of those, spending many days tending the budding plants such that for a while, Hanzo had felt second to those tiny shoots of greenery.

Gifts of stone and trinkets and other shiny things. Whittled pieces of wood that crudely resembled other creatures in the desert surrounding their palace.

All of these little things, these little gifts that McCree had so eagerly gave him, had been another kind of present entirely—and were likely the way that humans, or a  _ naga _ raised by humans, courted their intended.

Hanzo couldn’t help it; he laughed and drew McCree closer. “What fools we are,” he said, relief making him giddy. “How long have you been courting me?”

“Some moons,” McCree said cheekily, tangling their tails together. “I was beginning to think…”

Shaking his head, Hanzo kissed him the way that humans kissed, smiling to himself at how far he’d come. “Now that we’re on the same page,” he said, pleased by the dazed look in McCree’s eyes. “I accept your courtship; you accept mine. There are  _ other _ things we can be doing with our time—things that your  _ parents _ interrupted.”

Hanzo smiled at the eager rattle of McCree’s tail, shivering as he felt it thrumming along the scales of his sides. “Don’t mention my parents while you’re trying to proposition me,” McCree complained, though he seemed no less eager. “But I accept your… _ suggestion _ .”

Wrapping his tail tightly around McCree’s, Hanzo rolled him into place, pushing him down against the stone walkway. “Good,” Hanzo breathed, staring down fondly at his intended. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to McCree’s cheek. “Because I can be  _ most _ persuasive.”

Perhaps later he’d feel bad at the cleaning work that they left for their acolytes, and the fact that Hanzo’s pretty clothes had been quite thoroughly ruined. But that was for later.

**Author's Note:**

> For more information about monthly projects and more information about the other projects I'm working on, feel free to come and visit me on Twitter as [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus).
> 
> Love it? Hate it? Let me know! I love hearing from you. Thank you for making it this far.
> 
> ~DC


End file.
